Patience
by Pilgrim Soul
Summary: Stay out of trouble, keep a low profile, wait for rescue. That‘s the plan anyway. - Team fic written for the LJ sga genficathon and previously posted there.


_A/N: This was originally written for the sgagenficathon on LJ and was previously posted there. It was written for the Team section of the ficathon with the prompt of "slavery, captivity or hostages"_

_Betaed by the ever patient (no pun intended) Alipeeps_

* * *

Day One

Sweat ran down her back as she drew in deep steadying breathes. She fell back into a defence stance, her bare feet planted firmly on the ground, the dry dirt warm beneath them. As her opponent approached, warier in than her first frenzied assault, Teyla raised her hands, shifting her weight on to her back foot, and then she waited. Her opponent was strong but she lacked discipline; the woman lashed out like a wild animal, her aggression untamed and unfocused. Teyla watched her, waiting until she had committed herself to an attack before making her own move. As the woman threw her weight behind a punch, Teyla leaned away from the blow; feeling the energy flow through her body, she twisted her body in a liquid movement, bringing her arm back, her elbow connecting with the woman's ribs. Teyla dropped into a crouch and swung around, her leg stretched out, arcing through the air inches above the ground, sweeping her assailant off her feet. The woman landed with a dull thud, the impact against the dry earth sending up a puff of dust. Teyla rose, still turning like a ballet dancer pirouetting, before planting her foot solidly against the woman's throat, exerting just enough pressure to drive home the threat. Teyla looked down at the woman, her mouth curled into a sneer.

"Do you yield?" The woman's only answer was a feral growl. "I can kill you now or you can admit defeat and walk away. It is your choice." Teyla increased the pressure on the woman's throat. "Do you yield?"

"Yes." The word was little more than a hiss, spoken grudgingly, and Teyla knew that she would have to watch her back; she would only kill if left with no alternative but she knew that the woman lying in the dirt would have no such morals. Teyla looked up and took in the faces of their audience; she saw a rainbow of emotions in their expressions: fear, excitement, hatred.

"I have no quarrel with any of you; I merely wish to be left alone." Teyla looked to every face, making eye contact with anyone who held her gaze. Once satisfied that her message had been understood she removed her foot from the woman's throat, leaving her gasping in the dirt. Teyla turned and walked away, her body tingling with adrenaline, every sense reaching out for the slightest hint of movement behind her but no one came after her. They let her walk away.

Dust stuck to her skin and she shook her hair loose, pushing it back from her face as she walked toward the fence and the two figures on the other side. Rodney was a bundle of nerves and was broadcasting the fact to anyone who cared to look; he paced backward and forward moving in quick birdlike motions. Next to him John was a picture of stillness.

"I see you're settling in, making friends with the locals," John quipped. His voice was light in tone but Teyla recognised the tension in his stance and the tighter lines of his face. She tilted her head to one side and sighed.

"Please tell me you have a plan."

"I'm working on it." The tall double fence that separated them consisted of thick copper coloured wire strung along heavy metal stakes. The stakes leaned inward and razor wire coiled along the top of the barrier like thorny vines, making it impossible to climb over and escape into the towering jungle that surrounded them on three sides. On the other side was a sprawling complex of squat grey buildings, square windowless blocks stacked up against the hillside, on top of which stood the stargate. The fence split the compound down the middle; women on one side, men on the other. She was no more than three metres away from John and Rodney but she longed to be closer. They were not the kind of friends who were what John called "touchy feely" but right now just being able to reach out and touch them would have been a comfort. "Are you okay?" John asked, his eyes dark.

"I am fine, I have had more testing sparring partners. It was merely a test, an initiation." She dismissed his worry; she would have bruises but nothing more. "Where is Ronon?" She could not see the Satedan anywhere in the dusty open yard beyond them and Ronon was a hard person to miss.

"We had a similar welcoming committee to the one you had," Rodney explained and she only now noticed the redness and swelling above the scientist's eye. "Only Ronon did a lot more damage."

"They put him in the cooler." John inclined his head toward the far side of the prison yard. "At least they took him down without hurting him. The guards have Wraith stunners." Teyla could feel his concern radiating off him despite his best efforts to conceal it.

"Wraith worshippers?" It was a logical jump to make. Not many planets had access to Wraith technology through honest means.

"The thought had occurred to us."

"Which would make us food," Rodney grimaced. "Its like those restaurants where you get to pick which lobster you want out of the tank. Only we're the lobsters."

"Rodney we don't know anything yet." John gritted his teeth. "They could have come by the stunners same way we did - whoever they are, they're well organised."

"Certainly their level of technology is above what we've come to expect from the Pegasus galaxy. No offence." Rodney's mouth gave an apologetic quirk.

"None taken," Teyla replied with a slight incline of her head. She had stopped being offended by the scientist's barbs when she realised he was just as scathing about his own people. "They are too heavily armed for us to escape easily."

"Yeah," John grimaced. "This is going to be a tough one. I think for now the best thing we can do is play it cool, check the place out, play nice with the other prisoners. Once we know what we're dealing with, we can go from there. In the meantime we try not to draw attention to ourselves."

"Well," Rodney's mouth drew into a thin line. "Thanks to Ronon we're doing a good job so far."

OoOoO

Rononwrapped his fingers around the bars above him. He braced himself against the walls of his cell; they were cold and damp, a stark contrast to the sun warmed metal under his fingers. He leaned back, rattling the bars, putting his full body weight behind the action. He let out a roar that came from deep inside, turning his anger outward. He had run from the Wraith for seven years yet he had allowed these "people" to lock him in a cage like an animal. Well, if they would treat him as a beast then that is what they would get. He rattled the bars once more, bellowing out into the darkening air. He wondered if Sheppard and the others could hear him, wondered where they were and whether they were okay. Their captors hadn't killed him which was a good sign; they were here for a reason, that was why they had only taken the healthy adults, those capable of work. He howled until his throat was raw but no one came; he flopped back on to the cold earth. His cell was dug into the ground, damp earth walls with open bars above him that he could reach while sitting on the floor; there was barely enough room for him to move, let alone stretch out his legs. The light was fading quickly now. The heat of the day was dissipating into the clear sky and he felt the cold seeping through his skin. He turned awkwardly, curling himself into a foetal position, and waited for the morning to come.

OoOoO

John pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders and rolled his neck, his joints cracking, stiff muscles protesting at the movement. He sat on the cot with his knees drawn up to his chest, trying to preserve as much heat as possible. In the cot beside him Rodney snored gently, the blanket pulled around him like a cocoon, his hands knotted in the rough fabric, clutching it to his chest like a child with a teddy bear, managing to look thoroughly miserable even in sleep. The inhabitants of the other cots also slept; twenty men, snoring, farting and drooling their way through the night, the smell of dried sweat heavy in the air. The depressing thing was he'd spent the night in worse places.

The other prisoners were keeping their distance; some of them turned their eyes away, others offered vague nods of acknowledgment. John really didn't blame them. They just wanted to blend in, be left alone; sometimes that was the best way to cope. Most of these men appeared to have been here for sometime, months… maybe even years. John didn't think he'd feel too friendly after all that time either. Rodney had taken first watch but John had managed little sleep and had been awake to hear the quiet sobbing of a fellow new inmate; he was little more than a boy, taken from his home and thrown into this hellhole. It brought home to John how terrifying this must be to people who'd led a simple, peaceful life and how disturbing it was that he had almost grown used to this kind of treatment. His was a twisted kind of life sometimes.

On the cot beside him Rodney twitched and rolled over, muttering something incomprehensible. John looked down at his friend and thought of Teyla and Ronon with no one to watch over them as they slept.

Day Two

"Oh, thank God," Rodney murmured as he saw Ronon's lumbering form among the throng of people being herded toward the prison gate. Rodney had been awoken no more than an hour earlier by a loud siren. It wasn't just the sheer volume that had hurt Rodney's head but the pitch of it seemed to have been calculated to cause discomfort - it was like listening to a dentist's drill. He had risen, bleary eyed and shivering, to discover it was barely dawn. Sheppard was already up and about and he had wondered at the Colonel's ability to keep running on minimal sleep and sustenance.

They had watched as the other prisoners all began to file out of their respective huts and head toward the large concrete blocks that housed the guards. There on trestle tables food was being dished out. A lumpy grey slop that may have been the Pegasus galaxy equivalent of porridge was unceremoniously dumped into Rodney's bowl and he had felt his stomach turn over at the sight but Sheppard had sat crossed legged in the dirt and forced his food down, encouraging Rodney to do the same. "We have to keep our strength up if we're going to get out of here," Sheppard had told him. An older prisoner had over heard them and grinned toothlessly at them before breaking into a barking laugh and turning away. Rodney had grimaced, forced a spoonful of the mush down, and tried to convince himself that after the first few mouthfuls it wasn't so bad.

Rodney had taken in the other prisoners. A quick head count had revealed roughly 90 men; the newer additions clearly stood out, marked by their clean clothes and the nervous glances, the rest of the prisoners sat in the dirt, their skin dark from too much sun, expressions of weary boredom on their faces.

As soon as they had eaten they had planned on heading for the fence and seeking out Teyla but before that could happen a second siren echoed across the yard. The other inmates stood and automatically started trudging toward the gate. Sheppard grabbed Rodney's arm and pulled him to his side.

"Where are we going?" Rodney asked in a shrill voice.

"How the hell should I know?"

The same toothless man who had laughed at them earlier jostled into Rodney's shoulder, "Gonna get those pretty little hands of yours dirty, make a man out of you." The man laughed again, a dry wheezing cackle that made Rodney's skin crawl. At Rodney's repulsed expression the man laughed even harder.

They moved through the gate and followed a well-worn track through the trees; Rodney glanced sideways at Sheppard who was doing his soldier thing. To others his expression would look indifferent, nonchalant even, but McKay could see the Colonel's mind working as he took in every detail of their surroundings, processing the information, weighing up their options. He also knew that Sheppard wouldn't like what he saw. The path was lined with guard towers and glancing up Rodney could see figures standing sentry above them, weapons gripped in anticipation. Whoever these people were, they were guarding this planet with a small army.

They only walked for a few minutes, curving around the perimeter of the compound before they came to a wide clearing. Lumber was stacked around three wooden canopies, each containing a hulking piece of machinery with a large saw blade glistening in its centre. Some of the prisoners took up positions in the huts and the saws screamed to life, the noise deafening. The rest of the prisoners spread out into the forest, collecting tools on their way, trudging to their daily tasks like automatons. McKay, Sheppard, Ronon and the eight other new arrivals were left standing around looking lost. Ronon glanced back at them, his face drawn.

"Hey!" Sheppard whispered out of the corner of his mouth. "You okay?"

Ronon grunted. "I'll be better when we get out of here."

Sheppard sighed and looked around at the guards. "I think we're going to have to bide our time on that one buddy."

The conversation was cut short by the guards barging through the group; one of them grabbed Rodney by the neck with rough hands and looked him up and down. The guard snorted in derision, clearly unimpressed with what he saw, making Rodney bristle with indignation. Once he'd finished his inspection, Rodney found himself pushed to one side join a group of four other men. He watched as Sheppard was subjected to the same humiliation and was relieved when the Colonel was shoved toward him. Ronon however was clearly destined for another task and was ushered away. Three guards surrounded him, one nudging him in the back with a baton. Rodney winced and hoped Ronon could refrain from getting himself killed.

OoOoO

John stood back, straightening his back, feeling the muscles cramp up; the only things worse then the agonising motion of cutting were the bone deep ache when he stopped moving and the reluctance of his muscles to start again.

"Clear!" The tree cracked, the sound as loud as a gunshot as the sliver of wood still holding it upright splintered. The great trunk slowly toppled as though in slow motion, seeming to briefly pause before suddenly crashing to the ground with a rush of air and noise and dirt. Their part in the process over, he and Rodney were ushered to the next doomed tree, marked with a blue stripe across its trunk.

"We're going to die."

"We're not going to die Rodney," John sighed, asserting the fact for the fourth time.

"Have you any idea how dangerous logging is? There are more fatalities than any other job."

"Alaskan crab fishing."

"What?" Rodney looked at him as if he was mad.

"Alaskan crab fishing. Its more dangerous than logging," he explained, wondering how such a random fact had found its way into his brain.

"Really?" A guard watched them from a short distance away and John grimaced at Rodney who took the hint and positioned himself on the opposite side of the thick trunk.

"Yeah." Rodney's skin was a shade of lobster red and sweat had slicked his hair down flat to his head. John imagined he didn't look a whole lot better and he found himself continually swatting away the tiny insects that flitted around them, attracted to the smell of their sweat. His muscles screamed in complaint as he felt the saw bite into the wood and opposite him Rodney grunted, gritting his teeth. Rodney had pitifully pointed out on more than one occasion over the past few hours that he wasn't cut out for manual labour and, if John was being honest, neither was he. Sure, he was in better physical shape than Rodney was and had the mental discipline to force his body to keep going. He had stamina and speed but although he was stronger than he looked, he was of naturally slight build and he'd spent the majority of his adult life sitting in a cockpit of one kind or another - and running and gym training didn't come close to preparing a body for this kind of punishment.

At least he and Rodney had managed to stick together, that was a comfort; he could cover for Rodney when he started to flag and make sure that the prickly scientist didn't piss anyone off too much. He wondered where Ronon and Teyla were. Had Teyla made it through the night without being attacked? They had seen Ronon from a distance. The Satedan was pulling the fallen trees from the woods and back toward the compound, wearing a harness. Seeing his friend used as a carthorse raised bile in his throat. It was humiliation pure and simple and he wondered how long Ronon would be able to take it before he killed someone.

OoOoO

Ronon curled his lip and stared down at the guard with contempt, a barely repressed growl in his throat. His natural instinct was to fight, to rip the guard's head off; he was certain he could take down at least two of them before the others would be able to get off a clear shot. Three years ago he'd have done it - but three years ago he'd only had himself to think about. He felt the harness tighten across his shoulders as it took the weight of the timber. A beast of burden, that was all he was to these people. An animal. He smiled a predatory smile at the guard in front of him, a smile that only widened when he saw the confidence in the man's eyes slip momentarily - he'd bide his time and then they'd find out just how much of an animal he was.

OoOoO

Teyla twisted the valve on the water skin, releasing a trickle of clear water into the wooden bowl, and held it up for a young guard who would have been considered handsome if it weren't for his barely concealed lechery. When he approached Teyla she stood still, feeling her skin crawl under his scrutiny. When he met her eyes he smiled, clearly liking what he saw, but she glared back at him, her eyes stony and her mouth curled into a sneer. Rather than taking the bowl from her he placed his hands over hers, stroking his fingers across her wrists as he took a deep draught from the bowl. Her skin crawled at his touch and she pulled the bowl away. He smiled at her.

"You know, you and I should be friends. If you're nice to me, I'll be nice to you. Could make your life a lot easier around here." Teyla's face twisted in disgust.

"I would rather die." She spoke clearly and slowly, enunciating each word carefully.

"Well, that can be arranged." Anger flashed across his face briefly before his expression settled back into the unsettling smile. "I can wait. We'll see how long you last before you come _begging_ for my help."

"You shall be waiting a _very _long time." Teyla winced at a sudden strike across her shoulders. Turning she saw a second guard, a tall sinewy woman with sun beached hair - she gave the male guard an impatient glare.

"You, back to work." The woman shoved Teyla away, though she needed no encouragement to leave the salacious guard behind. The water skin was almost full and sat heavy at her side. The strap across her shoulders dug into her skin, the sweat and grit under the leather rubbing her skin raw. She staggered across the uneven ground, stopping to quench the thirst of the dusty workers, each grateful for the cool liquid. The guards watched her progress closely, ensuring she did not linger too long and give anyone more than their share. The sun had already begun to fall toward the horizon before she found her way into the forest and spotted John and Rodney. Slowly she worked her way toward them. John noticed her first and even from a distance she could see the relief in his expression; he tapped Rodney on the arm and twitched his head in Teyla's direction. Rodney smiled weakly through his exhaustion. Gradually she worked her way toward them. John stood back, gesturing for her to offer the water to Rodney before himself.

"Are you okay?" John whispered to the ground, not wanting to attract the attention of two nearby guards.

"I am…" she searched for the right word, "coping."

"I wish I was," Rodney mumbled. He reluctantly returned the bowl to her, his hands trembling slightly. John stepped forward and she offered the bowl to him. Much like the guard had done earlier, John put his hands over hers and leant forward to drink. Teyla smiled. The emotions that the gesture elicited were so very different from those she had felt earlier when the guard had made his lewd offer. John's touch radiated concern and reassurance and she found herself smiling; to John such a gesture was a powerful display of affection. John bowed his head to drink all the while keeping eye contact with her. His eyes were dull with weariness and worry and she realised the touch was not only reassurance for her.

"Hey!" The female guard, once again rapped Teyla across the back with the stick in her hand. "You are not here to talk, woman! If I catch you idling again, you will get more than a tap on the shoulder." Teyla bit back her own anger and felt her chest constrict as she saw John's eyes darken. He turned and, grabbing Rodney by his arm, they returned to their work. Teyla could still see his anger as though it moved beneath his skin as she turned and moved hurriedly away.

OoOoO

It was almost completely dark in the prison yard now and the four of them sat in the dirt, relishing the cooler evening air. Sheppard sat with his back against one of the massive metal supports of the fence, his knees pulled up to his chest, head tilted back as he stared at the sky, occasionally batting at the little silver insects that flittered around their heads. McKay was whining.

"Ow! Will you at least try to be gentle?"

Ronon yanked McKay's hand back and continued binding it. "There's no point in me doing this unless it's tight." Both Sheppard's and McKay's hands were blistered and raw.

"It's bad enough that I have to have Sheppard's sweaty shirt wrapped around my hands, which is highly unsanitary I might add, without you cutting off my circulation as well."

"Well, why don't you go and knock on the guard house door? I'm sure they'll be happy to give you clean bandages and antiseptic - maybe they'll let you have a "bubble bath" while you're there." Ronon smirked at McKay's affronted expression.

"There is nothing wrong with bubble baths. Caring about my personal hygiene does not make me any less manly!"

"No. You whining like a girl makes you less manly… Meredith."

Ronon chuckled as Sheppard emphasised the name with obvious relish. "That's never going to get old."

"Oh yes, ha ha! Lets all laugh at McKay's pain." The quiet laughter passed quickly and they fell back into silence, the only noise the murmur of their fellow inmates around them and the haunting cry of some unknown creature deep in the trees. Ronon felt a bone deep exhaustion that brought back old memories of his time as a runner; Atlantis had softened him and that troubled him. He had found Sheppard and McKay on the slow trudge back to the compound, falling into step beside them. They had eaten their evening meal, a kind of bread, heavy and grey, and something that vaguely resembled meat. McKay had been unnaturally quiet and Sheppard had seemed lost in his own world. Once they had eaten they had gone in search of Teyla.

"So what is the plan?" Ronon asked, no longer able to stand the silence, needing something to grab hold of, something to do. Sheppard sighed heavily. In the dark he looked older than his years, weighed down with care.

"Well, unless you've got any C4 hidden in your dreads, there isn't one."

"I've got a knife," Ronon offered, and through the gloom he saw Sheppard smile ruefully.

"As much damage as I know you're capable of with that thing, I don't think it's going to do us a lot of good right now. This place is just too heavily guarded."

"So what do we do?"

"We wait, we pay attention, learn everything we can. If an opportunity presents itself, we grab it. But our best bet is to wait it out. Carter will send help; our first priority is to still be in one piece when they get here."

"So we're supposed to put up with them treating us like animals?"

Sheppard's eyes glinted in the dark; Ronon had heard the accusation in his own voice betraying his frustration and anger. Aiming it at the wrong person. Sheppard leaned forward, his hand outstretched, one long finger pointing at Ronon.

"You think I like this any more than you do? You think I like seeing you treated like that? It makes me sick to my stomach but unless I'm missing the obvious here we're not going just walk through the gate unnoticed." Sheppard didn't raise his voice but he was angry, the kind of angry that made McKay look scared and Teyla look worried. The first time Ronon had seem him like this he'd stepped back in surprise at the fierceness in his eyes, a fierceness seemingly at odds with the laid back amiable character Sheppard usually adopted. "And what about everyone else here? We pull some stupid stunt and the guards open fire, people are going to die. I don't need anymore deaths on my conscience." Sheppard sat back with a long drawn out breath and returned his gaze to the sky. "We wait and we watch. End of story."

Day Three

Teyla collected her breakfast and turned to join the other women only to find herself face to face with her attacker from the first day. The woman sneered at her before sweeping Teyla's bowl from her hands; it landed on the floor with a hollow thunk, the contents spilling into the dirt. Teyla drew in a deep breath; she had no stomach for a fight this morning.

"I thought we had agreed to leave one another be."

The other woman lip curled into an ugly sneer. "Do you think I didn't see you? Asai is mine!"

Teyla's brow wrinkled in confusion. "I do not know what you are talking about."

The woman gripped Teyla's arm, fingers digging into her skin. "Do not play innocent with me, I know your type. You leave him alone or you'll pay."'s arm away, shoving her a few steps backward in the process. She spat in the dirt at Teyla's feet and walked away, leaving Teyla lost for words. She flung Teyla

"Do not worry about Mayet. You are not the first new arrival to receive such attention from her." A small woman with skin the colour of chocolate and wide sad eyes looked up at Teyla from her seat on the ground a few metres away. "Some people are willing to do anything to survive here and she is one of them. As long as you stay out of her way and don't make eyes at Asai, she will soon lose interest in you."

"Asai?" Teyla sat down beside the woman, pleased to find someone willing to have a conversation.

"The guard. The pretty one with the ugly personality. Mayet is his pet. She… sees to his needs and in return he makes sure her life is easier than it is for most of us. Other women have similar arrangements; no doubt some of the men do too. As I said, some people do what they can to survive." The woman's voice was as sad as her eyes. She spoke slowly and deliberately as though she was out of practice.

"I am Teyla Emmagan. What is your name?"

"Rie. Rie Kasai Elene."

"It is an honour to meet you, Rie Kasai Elene." Teyla bowed her head, relieved to find someone who was willing to talk. "How long have you been here?"

"I do not remember. The cycles are different here… but a long time, too long. At first I thought rescue would come but it never did and now I know it never will."

Teyla touched her arm gently. "Do not be so sure. There are people looking for me and when they come for us they will free you also. You must have hope."

Rie smiled though the light never reached her eyes. "Hope is a false friend; you will learn that in time."

OoOoO

"I'm not cut out for slavery"

"You may have mentioned that once or twice, Rodney."

"Well, I'm not. I mean I'm in good shape…" Sheppard felt the muscles at the corner of his mouth twitch upward, seemingly the only muscles that it didn't hurt to move. "…but this, this is sheer, unrelenting torture. They can't seriously expect us to keep this up."

"Everyone else seems to be managing," John noted, any humour dissipating.

"I know," Rodney whined. "How do they do it?"

"They don't have a choice. When the alternative is death, you can find strength you didn't know you had. They have and you will too."

They were starting to get the hang of this tree felling business. Somehow, through the aching muscles and Rodney's awkwardness, they had found a rhythm; the saw glided back and forth without getting stuck every five minutes and the guards had stopped their constant pressure to go faster. They still had a long way to go before they worked with the skill and speed of their fellow workers but John hoped that they would be long gone before they had that much practice.

The two of them talked back and forth about everything and nothing just to take their minds off the pain and the heat. The heat was almost more unbearable than the physical exertion; even under the relative shade of the trees the air felt suffocating. John had concluded that black wasn't such a cool colour for a uniform after all. When he got back he'd talk to Sam about getting some desert gear or maybe some board shorts and a t-shirt for those trips to Surf Paradise planet; of course he was yet to actually find Surf Paradise planet but he lived in hope. When it had become clear that he and Rodney would need their hands bound, he'd given up his t-shirt, opting to keep his over shirt, a decision he was beginning to regret. The fabric felt heavy and coarse and the collar chafed against the back of his neck. Still, he was fairing better than Rodney was. The pasty Canadian's complexion had taken on a permanent scarlet glow and John winced just to look at it.

"He's smiling at me again," Rodney whispered through a grunt of exertion, making manic eye gestures toward an adjacent team of workers.

"Well, obviously he likes you."

"It's not funny." John thought it was very funny but he tried to look serious.

"Relax, Rodney. I think he just likes watching the new guys suffer." It was the same man who'd spoken to them the morning before. His age was hard to judge. He'd clearly been here for some time and his skin was like leather, wrinkled and slack around his eyes and mouth. His leering grin revealed that most of his teeth were missing and only a few wispy threads of hair clung to the top of his head. The overall effect reminded John of a deflated basketball. "And you're suffering more than most."

"I'm so not cut out for slavery."

"I'd noticed."

A guard appeared from out of the trees and stood behind Rodney who froze, his head ducked down and his shoulders hunched, like a hedgehog curling itself for protection. The guard brought the baton down hard across Rodney's shoulders before John could drag the saw blade back, forcing Rodney to start moving again. "You're here to do our bidding, not stand around and gossip like old men!" The baton slammed down across Rodney's shoulders for a second time with a hollow thud. John dropped the saw and stepped forward, instinct taking over, but he met Rodney's eyes and in them was a plea not to do anything stupid and the anger was tempered with pride in his friend. Rodney wasn't the coward he'd have people believe. He looked to the guard who was eyeing him with malicious intent, John could almost read his mind; everything about his expression said, "Just you try." One more step and John knew there'd be blood and that most of it would be his own.

He dropped his eyes, biting down on his tongue, trying to calm his breathing. Angrily, he grabbed up the saw handle and he and Rodney began to work again in silence. Satisfied that he'd asserted his superiority and general manliness, the guard moved on to the next team, watching for any excuse to bully the cowed workers. Many of the guards seemed indifferent, bored of standing around in the heat, but like every other prison John had ever been in, there were the sadists who got off on violence and intimidation. Some things were a universal constant.

OoOoO

"Behind the guard house there's a long slope. The wood is dragged up there to the gate." Ronon pointed to the shadow of the ring sitting on top of the squat buildings. "Then it's put into transport containers like the one we came here in and goes through the gate. They keep the wormhole open almost constantly through the day; it only closes down for short intervals. There are two guards by the DHD at all times and you can't see them from here but there are mounted guns on either side of the gate, as well as the guard towers." Ronon finished his report and fell back onto the ground sending up a little puff of dust. Above him a small pockmarked moon tinged with pink hung in the sky, wispy clouds blowing across it.

"So what you're saying is that even if one of us did manage to get our hands on a weapon and make a run for it, we'd be dead before we got within 100 yards of the gate?"

"Pretty much," Ronon agreed.

Sheppard pounded the ground with his fist.

"You're the one who's been telling us to wait for a rescue." Ronon reminded him.

"Yeah, well. Doesn't mean I wasn't hoping there'd be a hole in their security."

"I have been speaking with one of the other women." Teyla spoke softly. "She has been here for a long time. She says no one has ever escaped and that anyone who has tried was either killed in the attempt or swiftly executed as an example to others."

There was a moment's silence that was eventually broken by McKay. "So we're sticking with the do nothing plan?"

The question was genuine enough; Rodney came up with the crazy science plans but was frequently left terrified and bewildered by the more military aspects of escaping the bad guys. Sheppard had an uncanny knack of beating the odds when it came to impossible situations. Sometimes Ronon was amazed the man was still alive; he suspected Sheppard was rather surprised himself.

"Looks like it." Sheppard thumped the ground again and winced; he'd unwrapped the dressing from his hands and they looked even worse than they had the day before. The wind seemed to be picking up and there was a collective sigh as a cool breeze blew across the yard, as if someone had turned on a fan.

"Storm's coming," Ronon mumbled.

"You think?" McKay asked hopefully. "How can you tell?"

"I can smell it on the wind." There was an earthy scent to the air, an unmistakable freshness that hadn't been there before.

"Funny, the only thing I can smell around here is you and Sheppard."

"You're not smelling so good yourself McKay." Ronon flicked out his foot and kicked Rodney in the shins.

"I think I have enough bruises for today, thank you!" McKay kicked him back and Ronon couldn't help but smile. So he was stuck here for the time being - but at least he wasn't stuck here alone. They sat in companionable silence, enjoying the cooling air, each lost in their own thoughts. Another gust of wind blew across the yard, stirring up the dust and whipping it around in mini tornadoes. The pink moon was quickly disappearing behind dark clouds and a few heavy drops of water pattered into the dirt. Somewhere in the distance thunder rumbled.

"Told you." A blue light flickered in the corner of his vision. Not lightening, he realized. The gate. The rain pattered down around them, big drops that plopped to the ground and trickled down his skin; no one had yet moved to get out of the rain, they all were enjoying the freshness of the water. Ronon watched the gate. The area around it was lit up like a beacon by the wormhole. For a moment there was no movement then slowly a familiar object rolled through the gate.

OoOoO

"Do you see what I see?" Sheppard slowly pushed himself to his feet, his eyes riveted to a spot behind Rodney's head; Ronon too had sat up and was transfixed by what he saw. Rodney stood up, his muscles complaining at the effort, and turned to see what all the fuss was about… and saw one of the most beautiful sights he could imagine.

"MALP!" He pointed at it as if the others hadn't seen it and felt a massive grin blooming across his face. "They sent a MALP! They've found us!"'d be able to have a bath and sleep in his own bed, he wouldn't get gangrene in his hands. There'd be food, real food, and coffee. I'll be home in no time, he thought, everything is going to be alright - and then the MALP exploded. Rodney could barely contain his excitement; they were going home, he

Rodney stumbled backward, not because he could feel the blast but out of shock. The gate connection shut down, the blue light flickering out of existence, but the area around it was still visible in the dark, lit up by the bonfire that had moments before been a 300,000 piece of scientific equipment.

"They blew up the MALP!" he squeaked. "The bastards blew it up!" His shock was quickly turning to anger. Sheppard grabbed him by the arm.

"Keep your voice down, McKay! I'm sure right now that our hosts are wondering who put that nifty piece of tech through the gate and seeing as they just blew the damned thing to smithereens, I'd really rather not find out what they'd do to us if they found out it came from our people." The rain began to fall harder; big fat drops bounced off Rodney's head and ran down his face, blurring his vision.

"But they know where we are now; the MALP would have had time to pick up our sub-dermal transmitters. So we should be ready."

Sheppard looked thoughtful, which in Rodney's experience was never a good sign. "Yeah, we should be ready for anything."

Day Four

The rain lashed down upon the yard and was carried in on the wind as it whipped through the shelter. Thunder grumbled and moaned above them and lightening flashed across the sky. Rodney was not happy. The unbearable heat was replaced with a monsoon of icy rain swept down from the mountains and the hut provided little shelter. He was cold, wet, and most annoyingly, still here. He pulled the blanket around himself even tighter, and huddled down into the hollow between his cot and Sheppard's, trying to shelter himself from the worst of the wind. It was technically his turn to be on watch but hardly anyone was actually managing to sleep with the storm raging on. Sheppard, however, had somehow managed to fall asleep and lay curled up on his side looking disturbingly childlike. Rodney couldn't have slept anyway, not after what had happened earlier. He was too anxious. For a while he'd sat waiting, expecting to hear the low hum of puddle jumpers and the bark of p-90's, but his flirtation with optimism had been a brief one.

Ronon flopped down onto Rodney's empty cot, his feet hanging off the end by a good ten inches. "What the hell is taking them so long? We're in enemy hands for crying out loud. Leave no one behind remember?" Rodney hissed, leaning over so Ronon could hear him over the storm but no one else could.

"Think about it," Ronon grunted. "The MALP comes through the gate, it sees a bunch of heavily armed guards, fortifications, and the kind of technology most Pegasus worlds can only dream of, and then it gets blown up. That's all they know about this world, these people. Would you risk sending a jumper through?"

"You know, you're spending way too much time with Sheppard. You're starting to sound like him," Rodney groused.

"Yeah, well Sheppard thinks they'll wait for the Apollo." Ronon grimaced. He was as eager to get out of here as Rodney was.

"That could be another two or three days."

"Sheppard says we should sit tight and be prepared."

"That's easy for him to say. What kind of freak can sleep through this anyway?"

Ronon grunted, whether in agreement or not Rodney was unable to tell.

"_He _wouldn't wait." Rodney flicked a hand in Sheppard's direction.

"No. He'd disobey orders, steal a jumper and come after us on his own."

"Probably get us all killed," Rodney snorted.

"Probably," Ronon agreed.

"I can't believe Sam would be so cautious; she never used to be this cautious."

"Sam never had a whole city relying on her before," Sheppard mumbled, making Rodney's heart lurch in his chest at the unexpected voice so close to his ear. He turned to look at the Colonel; Sheppard hadn't moved or opened his eyes and within seconds his breathing had relaxed back into the steady rhythm of sleep.

"Freak," Rodney whispered.

"I heard that," came the sleepy reply.

OoOoO

The breakfast siren screeched out across the prison yard, eliciting a series of groans and expletives from the sleep-starved inmates. The wind had died down overnight and the torrential rain had subsided, leaving a lazy drizzling shower falling from a dirty grey sky. The rain ran down Teyla's arms, leaving streaks in the three days worth of dirt and grime that clung to her skin, and mud seeped through the cloths that she had used to bind her bare feet. Rescue hadn't come last night and the weather seemed to be echoing her despondent mood. She didn't doubt they would come, she just hated the waiting, the uncertainty. Ronon's impatience was beginning to wear off on her.

The attempted "attack" last night was the subject of much gossip, though the words were whispered lightly so the guards would not overhear. Tales were spun, each one more outlandish than the last until it was a fact that the guards had fought off an attack by 30 soldiers. Many thought it was the Wraith; others scoffed and claimed it was a rival faction of the same race as their captors. Some spoke of mysterious worlds and races; the Genii were spoken of and a few even mentioned the City of The Ancestors. Teyla said nothing.

"Were they the friends you spoke of?" Rie stood at Teyla's shoulder, bent over her bowl, shielding her food from the rain. Teyla had not noticed the tiny woman approach. "The people who came through the gate last night?"

"No people came through the gate."

"They will not try again," she continued as if she had not heard Teyla speak. "They will not try again and if they do they will suffer the same fate. I told you, no one ever escapes. It is best not to hope."

"That is never true," Teyla told her firmly. "It would take more than this place to take away my hope. They _will_ come and they will come soon and when they do, Rie Kasai Elene, I will take you home to your people and you will remember what it is to hope."

"You are very kind," she patted Teyla's arm gently, "but this is my only home now." Without saying another word she wandered off into the crowd. Teyla watched the tiny woman as she shuffled through the crowd. Rie had reached out a tentative hand of friendship; Teyla was grateful for it and determined that she would repay Rie's kindness. Sheppard, she knew, would try to free everyone. Rodney called it a hero complex; Teyla put it down to him being a good man.

OoOoO

Rodney shivered in the rain, feeling utterly miserable. Every time he thought this place couldn't get any worse, it did. He couldn't remember ever feeling so exhausted; nothing that they had been through over their time in Pegasus had prepared him for this. Just a few days and his spirit was already beginning to give way under the strain. He looked around at the other men in the yard. There were those that seemed to cope, perhaps even finding some kind of strange contentment, but there were many more who stared out into the rain with dead eyes and blank faces. How long had those men been here before they lost hope?

"Sheppard?" he whispered to the man by his side.

"Yeah?"

"We're going to save them all, aren't we?"

Sheppard looked at him and smiled a strange faraway expression that Rodney couldn't quite read. "We're sure as hell going to try."

"We'll make the bastards pay," Ronon growled. He nodded toward a burly guard standing under the eaves on the buildings, sheltering from the rain. "Gonna start with that one. Rip his arms off."

"Not that I don't appreciate the sentiment, Chewie, but our first priority is to get everyone out. Then we can think about ripping off limbs."

The second siren of the morning rang out across the compound, calling them to work. Once they were through the main gates, Ronon was steered away toward his task. Rodney sneered, watching the way the guards behaved around the big man. Ronon scared them. They were a little more alert, their grip on their weapons a little more secure. Ronon growled as he was led away. Rodney never ceased to be glad that the Satedan was on his side.

Sheppard sighed and patted him on the shoulder. "We've just got to hang on in there. A couple more days and this will all be over. We'll all take a week off, head back to Earth, find a nice beach somewhere with a sea breeze and lots of hot girls in bikinis. Surf all day, drink tequila all night. What do you say?"

"Tequila makes me sick and I can't surf."

"Well, it's about time you learned. The chicks dig surfers. I'll teach you."

"Yeah?" Rodney perked up.

"Sure it'll be fun."

It would be fun, Rodney thought. He trudged through the mud but his mind was filled with the images of sandy beaches and beautiful women watching admiringly as he cut through the waves on his board. How hard could it be?

"Not you!" At first Rodney thought the guard was addressing him but turned to see the man holding his baton in front of Sheppard's chest. "We've got supplies coming in. You're needed back at the warehouse." The guard gestured back toward the compound.

Rodney tried to step back to join Sheppard but was pushed away.

"Keep moving!" the guard snapped as another shoved him in the back. Rodney stumbled forward. Looking back, he saw Sheppard being marched back to the compound. He suddenly felt lost; he'd not been left alone before. Teyla and Ronon could cope but he wasn't good at this stuff; he needed Sheppard around to keep his mind occupied with thoughts of sunny beaches and a seas breeze. The guard shoved Rodney again and reluctantly he picked up the pace. They reached the little hut where the saws were handed out. Rodney took his and looked around lost. Now what was he supposed to do? He jumped as a hand clapped down on his shoulder and a familiar voice spoke into his ear, a little too loud for comfort.

"Now, my dear boy," the old man said. "Looks like you and me's a team today." Rodney looked at him aghast.

"Oh, don't you worry, my pretty one. I'm sure we'll be the very best of friends." The man laughed, revealing his toothless gums and sending a waft of bad breath into Rodney's face that made his breakfast lurch in his stomach. "Come you along with me. I'll look after you."

"Sunny beaches and a sea breeze. Sunny beaches and a sea breeze," Rodney mumbled the mantra under his breath as he followed the old man into the woods.

OoOoO

Something was wrong. No other workers were being taken back to help with the supplies, just him, and for some reason they had decided he needed two guards to escort him. By the time he reached the guard block, his body was buzzing with adrenalin, expecting the worst. No one warned him of the step down into the building and he fell forward, landing on all fours, jolting muscles and joints that really didn't need any more punishment. He started to stand up but before he could get on his feet two hands landed on his shoulders and pushed him firmly back down. What was it with the bad guys always wanting him on his knees?

A woman stood in front of him. Tall and heavy set, her dark hair flecked with silver was scraped back off her face so it lay flat to her scalp. Her skin was dark and worn from too much sun, like most of the guards here, but he could tell from the way she carried herself that this wasn't just another guard. He could tell from her stance that she was the boss around here.

"Hi." He offered his most charming smile. She didn't look impressed.

"This is the one?" she asked the guards who had brought him.

"Yes. He came in with the last shipment, three others of his kind with him."

"And you are sure that he is their leader?" She questioned the last word dubiously, as though she couldn't imagine anyone following him.

"It is either him or the woman but he has control over the other two men, they seem to obey him." The woman snorted derisively and John began to feel offended, though the thought of Rodney and Ronon obeying anyone was somewhat amusing.

The woman turned her attention fully on him, glaring down at him with piercing blue eyes. "Where are you from?"

"Nowhere."

"Answer the question." This was not a woman who liked to be messed with; her tone was sharp, her words delivered in quick bursts.

"I just did. My world was destroyed by the Wraith. I have no home."

"If your world was destroyed, how did _you _escape?" she asked, straight and to the point. Sheppard appreciated that; he wasn't in the mood for games.

"I was a soldier. My unit was assigned to get our leaders to safety. We were ambushed at the gate, only handful of us made it through." John had practiced this story through in his head many times; he and Ronon had concocted it a year ago in another prison on another world, Ronon's own tragic past making it all too feasible. Why hadn't they gone through it with Rodney and Teyla? John made a mental note to talk with Carter about each Gate team having a back-up story.

"And your three friends? They too were soldiers?"

"The big man and the woman were. The other man was an advisor to the governor, a scholar."

She studied him with an unwavering gaze. He held her stare and they stayed like that for what felt like minutes, just staring each other down like children seeing who would be the first to blink. John allowed himself a little smile of triumph when she looked away first.

"Yes, you have the arrogance of a soldier. You still expect to escape from here. Do you expect your people to come for you?"

"What people? I told you they're all dead," he spat. Acting wasn't his strong point. For a man who'd spent most of his adult life keeping secrets, he was a terrible liar so he just poured in all his frustration from the last few days and hoped to God she'd buy it.

"The machine that came through the gate last night what was it?" It was the question he had been waiting for but he still feigned surprise. Furrowing his brow he looked to the guards either side of him.

"How should I know? What is this about?"

"Do not lie to me!" she hissed quietly through gritted teeth. "Was it an attack? A weapon? If it was, it was a poor attempt. We destroyed it easily. Your people are no challenge to us."

"A weapon? So someone _did _attack the gate?" John grinned gleefully at her. "Good for them! I hope they come back and kick your ass."

Her boot connected with his jawbone before he had a chance to register what was happening. His head jerked back and his back twisted, the already abused muscles tightening in the process. John's grunt turned into an angry snarl. He looked up at her as he spat blood from his mouth. "Bitch!"

She stood above him, breathing heavily, her calmness replaced with anger and frustration, her face contorted into an ugly scowl.

"You admit it? It was your people who sent it?"

"I told you my people are dead! I don't know what the hell that was last night or who sent it!" he taunted her. If it hadn't been for the threat of imminent death he'd almost have been enjoying himself. "Maybe it was the Wraith; we were destroyed because we became too advanced - perhaps they're coming after you. Have you ever seen a Wraith up close? Watched as they sucked your comrades dry? No? That's a shame. I really hope that you get to experience that up close and personal real soon."

"Shut up, you worthless piece of scum!" She went for a second kick but this time he swerved his head to one side in time and she just clipped the side of his head. She turned her anger on the guards. "He knows nothing, why did you bring him here?"

"Because they're as scared as you," John grinned at her. "You don't know any more than I do."

"Stand up!" she ordered but the guards had lifted him onto his feet before he could push himself up. She stalked toward him. "I should kill you for your insolence but it will be far more fun to make your life as long and miserable as possible."

OoOoO

"What do you mean they took Sheppard?" Ronon demanded. He was tired, pissed off and hungry. McKay looked thoroughly miserable and dejected. The little man kept looking behind him. When Ronon glanced over his shoulder he saw an ugly old man wiggle his fingers in a wave aimed at McKay. "And who the hell is that?"

"That is Glagrusan, Glag to his friends, of whom I am apparently one. I've had to work with him all day; I've heard his whole life story - with songs." McKay shuddered. "As for Sheppard, well they took him away this morning, said they needed him to unload some supplies. You didn't see him anywhere near the gate?"

"No, but they don't like to let me get too close. Anyone would think they didn't trust me," he smiled grimly.

"Teyla hasn't seen him either. I bet he's been indoors in the dry all day while we've been out in this." McKay gestured up to the grey sky that still drizzled with fine rain. Ronon had spent the day slipping and sliding through the mud. His size made him sink deeply into the soft deep mud on the edge of the forest and the wood he dragged behind him kept digging down into the ground and becoming stuck. It had been a long and exhausting day for everyone; even the guards were more pissed off than usual.

"Why Sheppard?" Ronon didn't like it. It felt wrong and he knew McKay was thinking the same thing.

"If they know who we are, what do you think they'll do to us?"

Ronon wished he knew the answer. Would these people want to risk making an enemy of Atlantis by killing them?

"If they knew, they'd have come for the rest of us. They don't know anything. Let's keep it that way."

They were back in the compound, the men in front of them were already in the food line. Ronon scanned the yard; he couldn't see Sheppard's familiar form anywhere. "He's not here."

They joined the line and collected their meal. Ronon scooped the grey slop on to his bread and swallowed it down without tasting it. He watched the guards, looking for any kind of sign, but they showed no interest in he or McKay… but still he felt unsettled.

"Where the hell is he?" McKay whispered, tension raising his voice by two octaves. Ronon snatched the half-finished bowl from McKay's hand.

"Hey!"

Ronon ignored the scientist's complaint and dumped both dishes back on the table and started marching across the yard. McKay scurried up beside him, struggling to keep up. "Where are we going?"

"To find Sheppard."

The search proved fruitless however. The hut where they slept was empty, as was every corner of the yard. Rodney tagged along behind him with an increasingly worried look on his face, dreaming up ever more outlandish scenarios. The one that most worried Ronon was, what if they have taken him off-world? Perhaps this had nothing to do with the MALP. Maybe they really had needed him to unload supplies and maybe they had sent him through the gate to collect more. What if rescue came and Sheppard wasn't here?

Teyla was waiting for them by the fence when they arrived. She stood up straight, impatient for them to get close.

"You have not found him?" was the first thing she asked, even though the answer was obvious.

"No sign of him."

"But they cannot have discovered the truth. If they had surely they would have taken us also," Teyla reasoned.

"Or maybe they already know everything they need to know and they don't need us."

Ronon slapped McKay across the back of the head as he had seen Sheppard do many a time and immediately regretted the action; they shouldn't be fighting amongst themselves… but McKay shouldn't have doubted Sheppard.

"He'd never tell them anything." Ronon was sure of that. Sheppard had been tortured before and he'd never so much as wavered. Sheppard giving away intel wasn't something they would ever have to worry about.

"I know, I just… I just hate not knowing," McKay muttered dejectedly.

Ronon patted him on the shoulder, his touch gentler this time. "You're not the only one."

Day Five

Ronon had taken first watch but Rodney had barely slept. He'd slept little for the last four nights and pushed his body beyond its breaking point. When he got home he was going to get Keller to knock him out for a month. Beside him, Ronon snored loudly; for once the noise was strangely comforting because it meant he wasn't alone. He tried not to think what would happen if they came for Ronon too. Dawn was still a couple of hours away and, apart from the eerie noises of the forest, everything was still and silent so the quiet rustle caught his attention immediately. This wasn't the sound of a man turning over in his sleep. It was the shuffle of feet in the dirt and the quiet swish of the flap at the end of the hut being pulled back. He watched, muscles in his gut knotted, as a figure slipped into the hut and crept among the beds. Holding his breath, he lifted his arm to gently wake Ronon when the figure spoke.

"No need to wake the big man, my friend. I only want to talk to you." Rodney's stomach convulsed at the sounds of the old man's voice. Part of him would have preferred an armed guard.

"Go away!" he hissed.

"Come now, that's no way to talk to a friend. Come outside. I have something to show you."

Rodney flinched. "I'm not going anywhere with you!"

"Now, that is a shame. See, I know where your friend is."

"My friend? Sheppard?" McKay half rose, crouching down with his hands gripping the edge of Ronon's bed.

"Dark hair, all arms and legs?"

McKay nodded, that was a fair description of Sheppard. "Where is he?"

"Come with me and I'll show you."

Rodney looked back at Ronon, the dim light reflected in Ronon's one open eye. That was all the reassurance he needed.

Rodney and Grag crept back out into the night. Thin moonlight washed the colour from the world, making everything look a vivid black and white. They kept in the shadows of the huts and then crept into the darkness beneath the squat grey guardhouse.

"Where is he?"

"First we make a deal."

Rodney took a step backward. "What kind of deal?"

"You give me something I want and I tell you about your friend in return." An ugly, excited grin stretched across Grag's face. "What do you say?"

"Um…" Rodney's skin crawled. "You know, I'm really not into that kind of thing, maybe we can work something else out."

Grag's grin faded and he watched Rodney, the old man's face furrowed, the lines and wrinkles growing ever deeper. After a moment Grag leaned forward, doubling over, and wheezed, a sound like gas escaping from a balloon. It took a moment for Rodney to realise the man was laughing. He looked up at Rodney, his face split wide into a grin.

"Your boots, boy," he rasped. "My only desire is for those shiny boots of yours. Been a long time since I had anything so fine."

"Oh!" Relief washed over Rodney. He looked down at Grag's feet. Papery fragments of what once may have been a pair of boots were tied to his feet with various rags and pieces of string.

"So what do you say pretty one? Do we have a deal?"

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"We're friends aren't we?"

"A friend wouldn't ask for anything in return." Ronon stepped out of the shadows. It never ceased to amaze Rodney that someone so big could move so silently.

Grag's face dropped and Rodney was shocked to see genuine hurt in the man's eyes. "I only want to make a deal, its how things work here. You'll soon come to learn that."

Grag grimaced and muttered under his breath. "Bah!" he cried at Ronon, the sound loud in the stillness of the night. "Your friend is in one of the pits, over there." He gestured across the yard.

"Pits?" Rodney asked alarmed.

"Where your lug of a companion here spent his first night."

Rodney sighed with relief. They'd stuck him in a hole in the ground to cool off, that was all. Ronon had been fine and Sheppard would be too. He'd probably just lost his cool with a guard, done the very thing he'd been warning them not to do.

"And he's okay?" Ronon asked.

"That I don't rightly know but I can see him, ask him. In exchange for the boots."

"How?" Ronon demanded.

"I've been here so very long. The guards, they trust me. They give me extra tasks; I clean the latrines out, for the guards. I walk past the pits; that's when I saw your friend. I'll see him again tonight and pass on a message to him from you, you have my word. So do we have a deal or no?"

"We need to think about it," Rodney said quickly, now feeling confident that Sheppard would be back with them before he would have to give up his boots. "We know where to find you," he said, dismissing Grag as he would an incompetent scientist under his command. Grag looked disappointed but nodded understandingly. He gave one last longing look at Rodney's boots before he slunk back off into the dark.

OoOoO

John woke before the alarms to the cacophony of sound that was this planet's version of the morning chorus. He was close to the tree line here and from the depths of the forest came whoops and screams, low shouts that sounded almost human and high-pitched squawks and clicks. The fine mist of rain had stopped sometime during the night, leaving wispy clouds floating across a cold moonlit sky, but he was still drenched through. His clothes stuck to his skin and he had sunk an inch or two into the slimy, stinking mud he lay on. He tried to turn over onto his other side but lack of space and his increasingly stiff and painful joints made the manoeuvre far more difficult than it should have been. He found himself wondering how the hell Ronon had fitted in here at all.

He'd shivered in the cold morning air but as the last few vestiges of cloud had rolled away the sun rose high and bathed him in scorching heat. At first he sweated but he hadn't drunk anything in a day and his body soon began to dehydrate. The earth cell began to dry up, his filthy clothes stiffened in the heat and stuck to the mud walls, adding to his discomfort. The sun travelled painfully slowly across the sky and John dozed in and out of sleep as it went; eventually he woke to find that blissful darkness had settled over the compound.

Footsteps shuffled across the ground above him, accompanied by a sloshing sound, then suddenly a thump and a loud splash. A few drops of foul smelling liquid trickled down the edge of the pit. John tried not to retch.

"Sheppard?" Rodney's stalker peered through the cell bars above him. "I am Grag. Your friends send their greetings and ask after your health."

John peered up at the eager face of the strange little man. "Ronon and McKay?" His throat was so dry that speech was painful and his voice was barely a whisper.

"Yes indeed and the very beautiful lady."

"Are they okay?" John rasped.

"They are well and they send you this." He dropped a small parcel wrapped in rags through the bars. John hurriedly unwrapped it to reveal a lump of grey bread and a small yellow vegetable. "Food to keep you strong," Grag explained as though John were simple. "But I must hurry, do you have a message?"

"Tell them I'm doing fine and they don't need to worry."

"Good, good. I must go now." The strange man disappeared; John listened as his footsteps shuffled away through the dirt, leaving only the stench of his spilled load behind. John groaned and rolled over on to his side. It was going to be a long night.

OoOoO

It had been a long day of monotony, following the routine which was becoming familiar to them all. Already Teyla was finding her work easier, or perhaps she was simply getting used to the weariness. She had only managed to speak with Ronon and Rodney briefly; only a few words had passed between them but it was enough to know that John was still alive and still on this world. They had promised to tell her more this evening. She ate her meal hurriedly, Rie sitting quietly by her side as though Teyla's mere presence was a comfort to her. Teyla felt guilty leaving the woman behind but she needed to talk to Ronon and Rodney in private.

"Hello beautiful." The guard, Asai, grabbed hold of her arm. "Why are you in such a hurry? Keep me company for a while."

Teyla wrenched her arm from his grip. "Do not touch me!" she snarled, all too aware that the yard here was almost empty; the few women nearby blended away into the night, sensing trouble.

"I really am getting tired of your attitude. You should be grateful I show an interest."

"You disgust me!"

He grabbed her again, shoving her backward. Teyla shifted her weight to her back foot, her other leg twisted around his and she pulled it back sharply, tipping him backward. She pushed backward, pulling herself from his grasp and sending him toppling backward into the dirt. Asai howled and grabbed her foot; she fought to shake him loose, kicking him in the face. Her bare feet did little damage but it was another means to shake his grip free.

She stepped backward as he scrambled to his feet and lashed out at her. She ducked and avoided the first swing of his fist but the second connected with the side of her head. Before she could regain her composure she felt his fingers wrapping around her arms once more so she resorted to the move Charin had taught her when she was young; it was neither graceful nor honourable but it was effective. Teyla waited until Asai had pulled her closer and then raised her knee, putting the force of her body behind it. Asai screamed in pain as her knee connected with his groin. His grip loosened and as he doubled forward she grabbed his shoulders and headbutted him. The guard collapsed to the floor, curling up on himself like a wounded beast, cursing and screaming.

"Impressive!" Teyla turned, surprised by the voice. She had seen the tall female guard often; she was the same woman who had saved her from Asai's attentions before. "You know what the penalty for assaulting a guard is?"

"I was attacked first. I was merely defending myself."

"Hmm… yes, I believe you."

"Sena kill her!" Asai groaned from the floor. "Kill her now!"

Sena walked up to Asai and kicked him in the shins.

"You stupid whore!" he spat.

She crouched down and grabbed him by the hair. "These women are here to work, not for your personal amusement and depravity. Perhaps this woman has helped curb your desires for a little while, hmm?" Asai squirmed in her grip. "If you try anything like this again I won't kick you in the balls, I'll cut them off. Understood?" Sena tightened her grip.

"Yes Sena." Asai nodded, his teeth gritted.

"Good. Now I suggest you go find some ice." Sena threw Asai's head back down to the ground.

"And you…" She turned her attention to Teyla as she stood up. "You should run along. This is not a place to make enemies, yet in just a few days you and your friends seem to have made many. If Asai or any of the other guards bother you, you come to me. If you attack another guard I _will_" As she walked past she whispered into Teyla's ear. "But for what you did tonight you deserve an award." see you punished.

OoOoO

"A guard attacked you?" Ronon had been angry for days but now he desperately needed someone to beat the crap out of. Unfortunately his victim of choice was out of reach. According to Teyla, he would also be in considerable pain.

"It was nothing. I have dealt with it," Teyla said calmly. Even in the moonlight the bruising on her arms and cheek was starting to show.

"Nothing? He tried to…" he couldn't bring himself to say the word.

"Yes. He 'tried' but he did not succeed. I do not need you to protect me, Ronon. I am confident he will not try again."

"If he does…"

"He will not, so let us not talk of it anymore. And I would appreciate it if you did not tell Rodney. He will only worry."

"He's too busy worrying about himself."

"You know that is not true."

Ronon did know that it was untrue. McKay had impressed him the last few days. Yes, he had complained constantly, had always assumed the worse and generally been a purveyor of doom and gloom, but he was still standing when many men would be on their knees. Teyla gestured behind him and as he watched McKay and Grag scurrying toward them Ronon realised he actually felt proud of his friend, though of course he'd never tell McKay that.

"Did you see him?" Ronon demanded of Grag as soon as they were within earshot.

"Yes, I saw him. Still alive." Grag nodded reassuringly. "He said you were not to worry about him, that he would be fine."

"And that's all he said?"

"I had very little time; I would have got us both in trouble."

"You said you'd talk to him."

"And I did." Grag looked affronted. "I talked to him and told him you were all safe and well and then he said to tell you he was 'fine' and then I left."

Ronon kicked the ground in frustration. But what had he expected? Even if Grag had had more time to talk to Sheppard, the Colonel would never have risked saying too much. What more could be said other than a reassurance that he was okay?

"And he looked well?" Teyla asked Grag politely. The old man grimaced slightly. "He is tired and in need of water and he has a guard's boot print on his face but other than that he is well enough," Grag finished with a grin.

"How is that good?" Rodney asked.

"His words not mine," Grag defended himself sulkily. "Good is what he said. I'm just the messenger. Now," he said perking up, "what about my boots?"

Day Six

Rodney awoke with a jolt, his heart racing. Ronon was dragging him off the bed and he was almost outside before he found his own bootless feet. A fire raged on top of the guard house, flames billowing up into the night sky, and next to the dark flames the cold light of an open wormhole glimmered. Overhead, Rodney heard the soft yet unmistakable hum of a jumper.

"About damned time!" he shouted to the sky. The other prisoners were rushing out into the yard. They milled around, bewildered and terrified, asking each other questions to which no one had an answer. Some of the guards shouted for everyone to get back inside but no one appeared to be listening. Another jumper shot through the open wormhole, then another and another, each cloaking as soon as they were through. Bullets ripped into the air, their captors shooting blind in the hope of hitting one of the invisible ships. A jumper de-cloaked and a drone streaked out across the sky, striking into the grey, square buildings , showering rubble out across the yard. Ronon grabbed Rodney by the collar of his shirt and dragged him out of the way of flying debris as the jumper faded away into the night sky.

By the third explosion, mayhem had erupted throughout the whole compound; screaming, shouting and panic spread through the prisoners and they huddled together, unsure of what to do or who to trust. Rodney went where Ronon dragged him; they weaved through the crowd, heading further away from the buildings toward the back of the yard and open space. The jumper was there waiting for them, hovering just above the ground. The ramp slid down and six black uniformed marines dropped on to the dusty floor. Beside them a second jumper deposited a second group of marines who hit the ground running, disappearing into the darkness, their presence only given away by the bark of weapons fire as they began their assault on the guard towers. Rodney felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see the grinning face of Major Evan Lorne. He held out Ronon's gun.

"I think you misplaced this." Ronon's face split into a feral grin as he took back his weapon, he twirled it on his fingers and then settled it into his palm with a satisfied sigh, as if somehow he was now complete.

"Get in the jumper, Doc. We'll get the others." Lorne reached out a hand to pull him up but Rodney shook his head; he was as much a soldier as a scientist these days. He pulled at the rags wrapped around his hands, discarding the makeshift dressings in the dirt.

"Get me a vest and a P-90 and lets get this over with."

OoOoO

Teyla grabbed Rie's hand and pulled her through the crowd. She shouted to the other women as she went, unsure of how many heeded her in their panic. A drone had blown a hole through the barrier and some of the men were falling back into the women's sector to try and escape the fighting. Rie stumbled along behind her with wide-eyed shock on her face.

"I told you they would come!" Teyla shouted as she urged the tiny woman to stay with her. "You are going home, Rie. Back to your people." They clambered through the wreckage of the fence. Ahead of her Teyla saw the glow of the interior of a jumper hovering in the air, the vessel still cloaked. As she watched, Major Lorne leapt from the back and joined Rodney and Ronon; the three of them headed into the fight, Ronon leading the way with an animalistic roar.

"Hurry!" She pulled on Rie's hand, eager to rejoin her team. She reached the jumper and bundled Rie inside, the girl scrabbling into a corner with a whimper, looking wildly around the inside of the jumper. Teyla knew she must be terrified but there was no time to explain. A marine she vaguely recognised stood in the back of the jumper. "This is Rie," she told him. "She is a friend, take good care of her."

"Yes, ma'am," the marine answered.

"Incoming!" The pilot shouted out and the marine only had time to unhook his own P-90 and hand it to Teyla before the hatch began to close and the little ship began to rise into the air. Teyla didn't pause to watch it disappear; she was off into the crowd, following on the heels of her team.

OoOoO

John twisted and stretched. Bracing himself against ground, he pushed himself up against the bars, thumping his shoulder against the bars over and over. Bang, bang, bang! He could hear the gunfire, smell the fires and feel the hum of the jumpers in his very being and still he was stuck in the God damned hole in the ground. He screamed until his dry throat felt like it would bleed and his lungs would burst. The blood was pumping so loudly in his ears that he didn't hear the voices at first.

"Sheppard! Sheppard! John!"

He flipped onto his back and looked up above him. Ronon stared down at him, brandishing his gun with a big smile on his face. John curled himself up into a ball and huddled into the corner farthest from the lock. Ronon's blaster flared and the lock disintegrated with a metallic pop. Ronon threw open the hatch and reached down, pulling John out onto the surface one handed. John sat on the floor staring up at Ronon, trying to regain his breath.

"Where's that water?" Ronon demanded and a marine hurriedly passed over a flask. John snatched it. Fumbling to get the stopper off in his hurry, he tipped his head back and poured the liquid down his throat; it felt like heaven and tasted even better. He drank until the flask was dry and then tossed it away. He jumped to his feet, swayed slightly, then looked around him. Ronon was in front of him, Teyla and Rodney stood a few metres away, P-90's raised, three marines were with them and he could hear Lorne's voice barking orders over the radios. He met Ronon's eyes and shared the big man's grin.

"Let's go do some damage."

Someone pressed a 9 millimetre into his hand. He looked at in disgust, headed straight for McKay and demanded the scientist give up his P-90 in exchange for the side arm. It wasn't like McKay could actually hit anything anyway. He grabbed a marine's radio. "Lorne, this is Sheppard. Report!"

"We've got them on the run sir, but they're heavily armed. Do you want to fall back to the jumpers and get the hell out of here?"

"We're not going anywhere until the rest of the captives are free, is that clear?"

"As crystal, sir."

"Good. All units concentrate on clearing a path to the gate; we get as many civilians out as we can." A chorus of affirmatives crackled back through the radio. "Rodney, you and Teyla go find your friend. We need to get people moving toward the gate, maybe he can help. And somebody get me more water. Lots of water."

OoOoO

Ronon was enjoying himself. Despite their big guns these men and women were no soldiers. The raiders who had captured them were skilled and disciplined but the same could not be said of their brethren. Some of the guards put up a good fight, manning their stations and standing their ground, but just as many ran like children from the battle. Some of them headed out into the forest, others ran blindly into the darkness. Some of the prisoners had begun to comprehend what was happening and were lobbing missiles of rubble at the fleeing guards.

They ran among the guard houses. Sheppard crouched and ran underneath a window; he reached the other side and lobbed in a grenade, ducking to one side as the room exploded outward with a muffled boom. Seconds later the two of them were inside, the marines at their backs. A guard came round the door, gun raised, but Ronon dropped him with a single blast, silencing the man's battle cry.

"Clear!" he shouted and the five of them moved on to the next room and the next, working their way through the rooms, picking off guards and easily making their way toward the gate.

OoOoO

Grag whooped and cried tears, dancing amongst the carnage that surrounded him. The old man was completely mad but Rodney found himself inexplicably touched by Grag's childlike cries of, "Home! Home!" He'd had little time to explain the situation but Grag had quickly picked up on the idea that freedom was within his grasp; he scurried among the crowd spreading the word and Rodney followed along behind him.

"Get to the gate!" he whispered in every ear. "Get to the gate and you'll be safe. You'll be free." No one seemed to believe him but they believed Grag, mad as he was, and soon the majority of the captives were moving as one toward the gate while the jumpers danced above them, clearing the way. Rodney had never been on the ground in a battle so fiercely fought and he was left breathless by the sheer noise. People swarmed around him, all desperate for their chance at freedom, a mass of bodies screaming, crying, cursing and shouting. Slowly, they fought their way through, reaching the ramp to the Stargate. Rodney looked up and there were the two mounted guns Ronon had told them about, a marine stationed on each one. Sheppard and Ronon stood by the gate, the blue ripple of the event horizon behind them, they looked ridiculously heroic, like something out of a bad action movie. Rodney laughed out loud, sounding every bit as crazy as Grag and really not caring - he was going home.


End file.
